Cyprus, as I Saw It in 1879

by Sir Samuel White Baker

CYPRUS AS I SAW IT IN 1879.

CHAPTER 1.

ARRIVAL AT LARNACA.

On the morning of the 4th January we sighted Cyprus at about fifty miles distance, after a smooth voyage of twenty-six hours from Alexandria. The day was favourable for an arrival, as the atmospherical condition afforded both intense lights and shadows. The sky was a cobalt blue, but upon all points of the compass local rain-clouds hovered in dark patches near the surface, and emptied themselves in heavy showers. The air was extremely clear, and as we steamed at ten knots each hour brought out in prominent relief the mountain peaks of Cyprus; Olympus was capped with clouds. Passing through a rain-cloud which for a time obscured the view, we at length emerged into bright sunshine; the mists had cleared from the mountain range, and Troodos, 6,400 feet above the sea-level, towered above all competitors.

We were now about ten miles from the shore, and the general appearance of the island suggested a recent snowfall. As the sun shone upon a bare white surface, the sterile slopes and mountain sides were utterly devoid of vegetation, and presented a sad aspect of desolation, which reminded me of the barren range on the shores of the Red Sea.

First impressions are seldom correct, but the view of Cyprus on arrival from the south was depressing, and extinguished all hopes that had been formed concerning our newly-acquired possession. This was the treasure acquired by astute diplomacy!

For about twenty miles we skirted this miserable coast, upon which not a green speck relieved the eye; at length we sighted the minaret which marked the position of Larnaca, the port or roadstead to which the mail was bound; and in the town we distinguished three or four green trees. We cast anchor about half a mile from the shore. Nine or ten vessels, including several steamers, were in the roadstead, and a number of lighters were employed in landing cargoes.

Disappointment and disgust were quickly banished by the reflection that at this season (January) there was nothing green in England: the thermometer in that dreary land would be below freezing-point, while on the deck where we stood it was 64 degrees Fahr. We were quickly in a boat steering for the landing-place.

All towns look tolerably well from the sea, especially if situated actually upon the margin of the water. The town represented a front of about a mile, less than five feet above the level of the sea, bordered by a masonry quay perpendicular to the surface, from which several wooden jetties of inferior and very recent construction served as landing-places.

The left flank of Larnaca was bounded by a small Turkish fort, absolutely useless against modern artillery upon the walls the British flag was floating. We landed upon the quay. This formed a street, the sea upon one side, faced by a row of houses. As with all Turkish possessions, decay had stamped the town: the masonry of the quay was in many places broken down, the waves had undermined certain houses, and in the holes thus washed out by the action of water were accumulations of recent filth. Nevertheless, enormous improvements had taken place since the English occupation. An engineer was already employed in repairing the quay, and large blocks of carefully faced stone (a sedimentary limestone rock of very recent formation) were being laid upon a bed of concrete to form a permanent sea-wall. The houses which lined the quay were for the most part stores, warehouses, and liquor-shops. Among these the Custom House, the Club, Post Office, and Chief Commissioner's were prominent as superior buildings. There was a peculiar character in the interior economy of nearly all houses in Larnaca; it appeared that heavy timber must have been scarce before the town was built, as the upper floor was invariably supported by stone arches of considerable magnitude, which sprang from the ground-floor level. These arches were uniform throughout the town, and the base of the arch was the actual ground, without any pillar or columnar support; so that in the absence of a powerful beam of timber, the top of the one-span arch formed a support for the joists of the floor above. In large houses numerous arches gave an imposing appearance to the architecture of the ground floors, which were generally used as warehouses. Even the wooden joists were imported poles of fir, thus proving the scarcity of natural forests. The roofs of the houses were for the most part flat, and covered with tempered clay and chopped straw for the thickness of about ten inches. Some buildings of greater pretensions were gaudy in bright red tiles, but all were alike in the general waste of rain-water, which was simply allowed to pour into the narrow streets through innumerable wooden shoots projecting about six feet beyond the eaves. These gutters would be a serious obstacle to wheeled conveyances, such as lofty waggons, which would be unable in many cases to pass beneath. The streets are paved, but being devoid of subterranean drains, a heavy shower would convert them into pools. Foot passengers are protected from such accidents by a stone footway about sixteen inches high upon either side of the narrow street. Before the English occupation these hollow lanes were merely heaps of filth, which caused great unhealthiness; they were now tolerably clean; but in most cases the pavement was full of holes that would have tested the springs and wheels of modern vehicles.